Far away o'er the prairie they fly,
and still in the lead is Tamdoka,
But the feet of his rival are nigh,
and slowly he gains on the hunter.
Now they turn on the post at the lake,--
now they run full abreast on the home-stretch:
Side by side they contend for the stake
for a long mile or more on the prairie
They strain like a stag and a hound,
when the swift river gleams through the thicket,
And the horns of the riders resound,
winding shrill through the depths of the forest.
But behold!--at full length on the ground
falls the fleet-footed Frenchman abruptly,
And away with a whoop and a bound
springs the eager, exulting Tamdoka
Long and loud on the hills is the
shout of his swarthy admirers and backers,
"But the race is not won till it's out,"
said DuLuth, to himself as he gathered,
With a frown on his face, for the foot
of the wily Tamdoka had tripped him.
Far ahead ran the brave on the route,
and turning he boasted exultant.
Like spurs to the steed to DuLuth
were the jeers and the taunts of the boaster;
Indignant was he and red wroth
at the trick of the runner dishonest;
And away like a whirlwind he speeds--
like a hurricane mad from the mountains;
He gains on Tamdoka,--he leads!--
and behold, with the spring of a panther,
He leaps to the goal and succeeds,
'mid the roar of the mad acclamation.
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